


Harringrove Snippets

by Bezzz



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Cuddling & Snuggling, Ficlet Collection, Fighting, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt Billy Hargrove, Hurt Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lots of things, M/M, Nightmares, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Billy Hargrove, Protective Steve Harrington, Sleepy Cuddles, Steve Harrington Has PTSD, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Tumblr Prompt, i don't really know yet - Freeform, physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bezzz/pseuds/Bezzz
Summary: Each chapter is a self contained snippet of Harringrove.Angst/Fluff/Hurt+Comfort, it's all in here, I've tried to summarise each chapter well enough that you can pick and choose what appeals!
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 153





	1. You shouldn't have said that.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at bronskiibeat.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the following prompts:  
> 62: “You shouldn’t have said that.”  
> 130: “Don’t apologise. That’s not the point. Did you mean it?”
> 
> Themes-Angst, Coming out, Enemies, Period typical homophobic language.  
> Words: 1031

Steve had spent the week feeling sorry for himself. He’d had his face smashed in by his worst enemy, and then was dragged round a different dimension by some kids. He was allowed to feel sorry for himself. He hadn’t been to school since the day before it all kicked off at the Byers, and he had no intention of going any time soon. What was school when you’ve seen another world? 

His pity party was interrupted by a knock at the door. The only person to have come round to check on him was Chief Hopper, a quick doorstep chat and Steve had been alone again, just him and his fractured orbit and the pit in his stomach that never went away anymore. 

He dragged himself to the door, not having even the slightest bit of embarrassment about opening the door in the same pyjama pants he’d been wearing all week and no shirt at all. The hazy apathy cleared almost instantly as he found himself face to face with Billy Hargrove. 

Steve instantly wanted to put a few more clothes on, instead he put an attitude on and hoped the other boy hadn’t noticed. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “What a lovely surprise!” He mocked. 

Billy, for all he was worth, didn’t rise to Steve’s tone. “Look Harrington, can I… we need to talk. Can I come in?” 

Steve’s face was saying ‘are you fucking stupid’, his words said. “Absolutely fucking not.” 

A huff of frustration from Hargrove, and a step forward that had Steve stepping back reflexively. “I need to apologise for what I did?” 

“Oh you think?” Steve laughed, but the scorn of his humour didn’t reach Billy, who stood stock still, his face neutral but for a small drawn look between his eyebrows. 

“I like you Harrington.” 

Steve’s surprise turned to confusion almost instantly, pushing his eyebrows up and pulling them straight back down into a frown. He pinned the frown to Billy’s own eyes for a long tense moment before stepping aside, nodding Hargrove through the door. 

Billy led the way down the hall, not that he knew the house, but his feigned confidence had Steve’s brain working overtime to make up for the lack of any reasonable thought for at least a week.

Sitting across the table Steve waited for Billy to talk. That’s what he’d come here to do, and Steve wasn’t going to make it any easier for the thug. He would make this as uncomfortable as possible. 

After a couple of minutes of what Steve could only describe as torture, Billy spoke quietly, voice rough and low, eyes making themselves intimately acquainted with a spot on the table. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done… that... to you.”

Steve’s eyebrows, for the second time that day hit the ceiling. “So we’re just ignoring what you said on the doorstep apparently?” He offered as a reply, in no world would he be accepting an apology. 

Billy’s eyes met Steve’s, an intensity there that made Steve want to close his eyes for fear all of his deepest darkest secrets were being read.  
“I meant it. I like you. You’re tough. Max has explained a few things to me about last week.” 

“Alright gay boy, calm down.” 

The Billy that was trying to be civil was quickly replaced with the Billy Steve knew so well, and Steve wasn’t sure why he’d egged it out of him, maybe because he was more comfortable with confrontation with the guy than a serious heartfelt conversation. How fucked was that?

“Oh fuck off Steve. I come here to try and apologise to you, and you’re not exactly making that easy!” He said as he stood up, his chair falling behind him with a clatter. Steve stood up too, heart racing as he pre-empted the possibility of Steve gets the shit kicked out of him round two. Now he’d started poking the beast though, he couldn’t stop. He was feeling. And even though he was feeling fear. It was something.

“Well crack on, just don’t drag me into your weird homo declaration of love. I’m not-“ That came around quickly to bite him on the bum as he found himself pushed back into the wall by the rough hands of Billy Hargrove grabbing at his bare shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Billy ground out between clenched teeth, face so close that Steve could smell the gum Billy was chewing.

Steve pushed himself roughly out of Billy’s grasp, stepping sideways and rubbing at the point where Billy’s nails had dug in and drawn blood. After a long and tense silence stretched between them, Steve dared a question.

“ _Are_ you gay?” He frowned quietly, wondering where on earth this death wish had come from, but not having the energy to put into his self-preservation. 

A month-long silence stretched between them as Billy watched Steve, he looked like at any moment he’d grab a knife from the countertop and throw it straight at Steve’s face. Steve stood still, like he was trying not to startle a bear he’d stumbled across in the woods, his hand didn’t leave his shoulder, but his free hand was held up as if to try ward of another attack.

As Steve was about to say something, take his question back, Billy spoke. “Yeah.” He whispered, a hard look on his face, so intimidating that Steve wasn’t fazed by the answer given, for fear of the repercussion of commenting. 

“And I didn’t mean I like you in a fucking gay way. I like your guts, I like that you stand up for people other than yourself. And I’m fucking sorry, okay. I’m not fucking coming on to you or anything, I’m sorry.” 

Steve had never heard Billy speak in such an unplanned and disorderly manner and it threw some empathy up into his brain. 

“Don’t apologise.” He replied, running a rough hand over his face. “Fuck that’s not the point. Did you mean it?” 

Uncertainty passed over Billy’s features as he dropped back defeated into the chair Steve had vacated. “Mean what?” 

“Your apology.” 

Billy nodded for a moment before opening his mouth to vocalise the regret now so clear to Steve. “Yeah. I am so sorry I hurt you.”


	2. It's Your Fault We're In This Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to the prompts:  
> 29 “It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”  
> 107 “IT’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion”
> 
> Themes: Lost in the woods, scared Steve, protective Billy, Angst?  
> Words: 625

“It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”

“Is it fuck.” Billy snapped back, shining his flashlight from side to side in front of them as they walked through the woods in the middle of the night.

“It is. YOU were sure your stupid sister was out here with the nerd brigade and you demanded that I come here to help you find her.” Steve snapped back, grabbing at the shoulders of his backpack, arms crossed defensively across his chest as they wove their way hopefully back towards Hawkins. Truth be told they were fully lost and could be going any which way. 

“Well you said you knew where in the woods the little shits hung out, otherwise we wouldn’t be lost.” Billy replied, grumbling something else under his breath. 

Steve spun to face Billy, shining his own quickly dying torch into his face. “What was that?” 

Billy smirked a dangerous look, licking his top teeth with his tongue. “Nothing pretty boy.” 

“It was something. Tell me what you said?!” He demanded, his panic rising to anger as he realised: he was fuck knows where with Jerk of the Year 1984. He was even angrier that he was sort of dating Jerk of the Year 1984, what did that make him? Idiot of the year for sure. 

Billy held Steve’s gaze with a smug look. Steve hated that face, it read ‘I’m better than you and I know it’. Steve held it for a moment before his impulses took over and he turned on his heel, walking away from the other boy without a word, angry tears pricking at his eye. What a fucking mug he was to be this spooked by some trees. 

That had Billy’s resolve to be a dick faltering, he jogged the few steps between them to grab Steve’s hand only to have it wrenched out of his grip as Steve carried on. 

“Steve, come on. What’s the problem here? I’m just messing with you.” He fell in step behind Steve, lighting the other boys feet so he could see where he was going. Billy’s enjoyment of the situation was quickly dissipating as he realised he’d fucked up. 

“I’m sorry.” He said plainly, grabbing Steve’s hand again to make him stop. Steve spun to look at Billy with a frown stuck on his brow, tears red in his eyes but not falling.

“You’re scared?” Billy asked dumbly, so confused as to why Steve would fear being in the woods surrounding Hawkin’s Indiana. That kid he knew had gone missing, sure. But he showed up again didn’t he? Nothing ever happened here. It was boring town USA.

Steve swallowed an insult down, squeezing Billy’s hand back and letting him fall in step beside him as they headed forwards along the path hand in hand. “We are going home, and if we can’t do that, we are making a fire and waiting for the sun to come up.” He said tensely, willing himself to stop thinking about demo-anything. 

“Steve, we are in Hawkins, Indiana. If a rogue bear comes out to maul us, I’ll fight it for you.” Billy tried, hoping to lighten the mood, teasingly pushing himself gently against Steve. “Nothing happens here.” 

“It’s a real shame I didn’t ask your opinion, why didn’t I think of that?” Steve snarked back, but all malice was replaced with the tone of his unease. Steve growled in the back of his throat, he knew he was being unreasonable, and he knew that wasn’t Billy’s fault. “I’m sorry. But you’re wrong. I can’t tell you about it now, or I’m gonna die.” 

He squeezed Billy’s hand beside him, leaning against him for support. Billy glanced up at Steve’s face and nodded, “I got you Pretty Boy.”


	3. Road Trip does not go as planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to the prompt: Road trip does not go at all as planned
> 
> Themes: Roadtrip, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Violence, Cuddling  
> Words: 1225

Billy was unsure what had possessed him to let Steve take him on a road trip to the east coast. And on reflection that was a poor choice of words, in the scheme of things he was only just out of hospital. Well, about 6 months. And apart from the fact he now spent almost all his free time with Steve Harrington, he was quite sure he was properly healed from all his interdimensional ailments. 

He’d agreed to this trip not because he wanted to spend 12 hours in a car with Steve Harrington, or because Steve had never seen the sea. He needed to be at the coast, that would be the big reset and with that he could go back to his normal life. Not the life where the Chief of Police looked at him with pity and the town crazy lady invited him round for tea with his kid sister.  
“Ah shit.”

“I swear Harrington, if you need to pee one more-“ Billy was cut off by the spluttering dying last breath of life before the beemer rolled to a stop at the side of the road, Steve smiled at him slowly with the dumbest face Billy had ever seen. 

“We’re outta gas.” He commented airily, as if that wasn’t an issue in the middle of the Appalachians. 

Billy was cautious to get too angry too soon, but he felt the burn of it in his chest, accompanied by some panic. Though reasonably he knew Harrington had packed up the back with so much shit he must have packed a spare can of gas to at least get them to the next town. “So we need to fill up.” He ventured.

“Yeah the thing is Billy, we are nowhere near a town, are we?” Steve snapped back.

“You’re telling me, you brought enough chips to fill a pool but not a spare can?”  
Steve swallowed at the look on Billy’s face, turning the engine off and unbuckling his seatbelt. “I, yeah. I am?” He said with a question in his voice. 

Billy’s growl was so feral in the back of his throat that Steve jumped out to pop the hood of the car to see what he could do, knowing it was nothing. Billy followed in a cloud of red hot rage, knowing this wasn’t a situation that was going to be fixable under the hood, and even less so in the hour of daylight they had left. 

“Why didn’t you plan your fuel stops? Or pack a spare can?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Oh and like you helped even once ounce with the planning of this trip, you could have done that?!” Steve replied, turning his attention fully to the other teen, shoulders up in the dare of a fight.

Billy, who still felt almost programmed to take the bait when it was dangled, obliged. He shoved Steve so hard he fell over in front of him with a surprised shout.

“Fuck off Hargrove, you cannot pin this all on me. You should have helped plan if you were that bothered.” Steve rubbed at his hands where they’d caught his fall on the rough gritty asphalt and grazed them, blood and tarmac together on his palms. 

Billy grabbed his hair and shook his head, “I’m..” He stepped to lean low over Steve before turning and walking off down the road, an action so unexpected it took Steve a moment to register it before he was up on his feet. 

“Where are you going?!” He shouted after him. “Billy?”

Billy stopped and looked back to Steve, “Yeah I’m fucking off for 20 minutes or I’m gonna kill you.” He shouted back before carrying on. 

When Billy finally simmered and made it back to the car, it was dark, the noises of the night pattering around Steve. He’d rearranged the contents of the trunk so he could lay the back seats flat and taken out 2 blankets and 2 sleeping bags. When Billy returned to the car he saw Steve curled up in the front seat, eyes red under the pathetic glow of the interior light. Billy had taken half an hour to himself to wander the edge of the wooded road they were parked on, the odd car passing by, less frequent as the light went. He was significantly calmer than when he left, the panic of potentially not getting to the sea had taken over all rational thought. He had to get there. 

He opened the door and sat in the passenger seat beside Steve, looking at him before looking down to the bag of food Steve had brought forward. “Yeah, um… Sorry.” He murmured, rooting through to pull out some flattened sandwiches and throwing one to Steve.  
Steve nodded his acknowledgement but didn’t trust his voice to verbalise that thought. They ate in uncomfortable silence before Billy spoke to break it. “Are you.. you alright?” 

Instead of an answer Steve held his hand out so Billy could see the graze on his palm. Billy took the hand underneath so he didn’t touch the graze, running his fingers up and down Steve’s wrist. 

“I’ve set up the back, we can sleep here tonight. In the morning I’ll walk up to the town for a can of gas. I’ve looked at the map, it’s only a couple of miles, so should be a couple hours round trip.” Steve said, voice carefully level, but eyes not making any attempt to meet Billy’s.  
Billy curled Steve’s hand in on itself gently before letting go Steve could have it back. “Come on then, we can need an early start if we want to make the coast tomorrow.” He said decisively, crawling up over the central console, knocking Steve’s shoulder with his ass before settling into a sleeping back, squashing over so Steve would have room.

They’d been snoozing for a while before Steve started to full wakefulness. “Billy?” He whispered to see if he was awake. When he was greeted with a groan he spoke again, barely above a whisper. “Did you hear that?” 

Billy opened his eyes to look at Steve, untucking an arm from his bag to rub at his eyes. “Yeah, sounded like Steve Harrington waking me up.” He grumbled.  
“There’s something out there.” Came the paranoid response, so worried he’d skipped over Billy’s comment. 

Billy properly looked at Steve. He was scared. Billy had seen it before; they were acquainted enough now that he knew when Steve was freaking out. It happened a lot in the first few week’s post Starcourt. To both of them. Neither were ashamed to talk about their fears regarding the upside down, it was easier to have that out in the open, and though they teased each other about everything else, that was an unspoken untouchable topic.  
“Roll over.” He said gently, smirking when he saw Steve’s confusion furrow his brow.

“Why?” 

“So I don’t have to look at your stupid face.” Billy ribbed. But Steve did roll over, obviously put out that he wasn’t been taken seriously. He froze when Billy’s arm wrapped around his middle and pulled him close, but he settled into his quicker than he’d care to admit, he was feeling safe.

“If bigfoot comes to get you, I’ll fight him off. We’ve done worse.” He whispered straight into Steve’s ear.


	4. It always comes back to this with you doesn't it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It always comes back to this with you doesn't it?"
> 
> Themes: Declaration of love, physical fight/violence, quite intense
> 
> Words: 1541

It was gone midnight, Steve was sure he could feel the day tick over somewhere inside himself, or maybe the rustle of the grass around him felt more Saturday than Friday. Billy was beside him, he could feel that too, their arms pressed together as their gazes explored the city down below them, their feet kicking together gently as the warm summer air from the plains below rose to meet the cold mountain air dropping from above. 

Steve sighed happily, grabbing Billy’s elbow gently to lay himself down on the damp grass to direct his focus to the stars, the great unknown. Hawkins felt so small but coming to the hills and looking out towards everywhere made Steve feel like he maybe had a chance at escaping their small country jail, like they had the chance of getting out. 

“I love you.” He murmured thoughtlessly, dropping his eyes to see the side of Billy’s head.

“No you don’t.” Billy replied tightly, pulling his knees towards his chest and defiantly looking out towards the lights below, making no effort to even humour Steve with a glance back. 

Steve reached a hand up to Billy’s taking it in his own and squeezing, hoping to force some common sense into the boy. “Yeah I do.” He said back.

Billy looked round then, a dark look crossing his features, taking his hand back from Steve pointedly. 

“We aren’t anything Steve, we hang out sometimes, you know about the same monsters I do, but you don’t love me. I don’t love you.” Billy pushed himself to his feet, stepping deeper into the forest, one arm reached to grab the material of his opposite shoulder. He couldn’t do this, not with Steve, but he had to. He could not get attached any more than he was, he was already too deep, holding hands, hot make out sessions, staying the night, he was in way too deep already. And it was too dangerous to go throwing the L-word around. His dad would kill him, then he would be dead, and Max would be forced to move again, because of him. 

“Billy?” Steve’s voice called, from further away than Billy remembers walking, a hint of worry tinging his voice. Billy walked back towards Steve, stopping a foot or so away, taking in the pain on his face but scrubbing over it.

“We’re going, get in the car.” Billy snapped, forcing himself to be hard.

Steve held his ground, shoulders creeping towards his ears, making himself as big as he could, he was taller than Billy. “I’m not going anywhere until you say it.” He replied, eyes gleaming with the dangerous absence of fear that worried Billy when they were good but scared him when they weren’t. He might be a sweet teen babysitter when he wanted to be, but when this dangerous Steve came out, nothing would stop him. 

Billy rolled his eyes and smirked, as if laughing at Steve, putting his own attitude on. “You can’t make me say shit. I don’t love you.” He snapped nastily, alarmed by the vitriol flying out of his own mouth.

Steve flinched as if it had actually hit him before stepping right up into Billy’s space, “You’re just scared.” He accused. 

Billy’s fists were ready at his sides, he’d gone through pretending not to care now and was straight to seething hot anger. “Of you?” He laughed in Steve’s face. 

Steve watched Billy’s face, searching for anything that betrayed he felt something good about them, showing Steve that this wasn’t just a one way thing, that Billy could admit they were good together, but he found only disgust and anger. 

“You’re scared of us. How good we are. You’re scared of committing to trying to make this work.” He grabbed the front of his hair in frustration before pushing it back. He stepped back to put an arm’s length between them, taking his gaze away from Billy in his frustration. “Jesus.” He exclaimed, ““It always comes back to this with you, doesn’t it? Just you being a little pussy. I’m sick of it!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Billy shouted, watching as Steve was caught of guard by one of his fists meeting his jaw roughly, he was caught so by surprise that it sent him flying, landing with a tree root poking roughly into his side. He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed Billy by the lapels and pushed him up against a tree, bracing an arm across Hargrove’s neck. 

“What is wrong with you?” Steve whispered. 

Billy scrambled to find his footing, having to lift himself onto his toes before Steve to stand up so he wasn’t strangled, oh but when Steve snapped it lit something in him. He loved to see Steve with some fight in him, it was better than the Steve who jumped at a pin drop or cried in the night. No, the angry Steve, fighting for a cause was a much better alternative to Billy, it showed him Steve cared. But that’s not the point, he didn’t want Steve to care. And that’s why he kept poking the beast.

It was the increased pressure on his neck that snapped Billy back to the reality of the situation, Steve was actually hurting him. And he knew he meant it. A fire lit in his eyes, he collected some saliva in his mouth and spat it into Steve’s face.

“Get off.” He growled. When Steve only pushed Billy harder into the tree, Billy reached his limit. With a swift unexpected motion, Billy hooked a leg behind Steve’s and pushed his body against Steve’s own weight and they both tumbled to the floor. After a few jabs and kicks to his stomach by a flailing Steve, and a harder one of his own to Steve’s chest, Billy was up and free. And he was sprinting for his car. That would teach the little bitch. 

“Billy!” Steve shouted through the woods as he realised what Billy was doing, picking himself up and ignoring the spinning of the trees to sprint after him.

When Steve finally got anywhere near to catching up, tears were running freely down his face, Billy was in the driver’s seat and the engine already growling to life. Billy wound down his window and flicked a finger at Steve.

“Billy please.” Steve sobbed, reaching out to grab the window, but not making it before Billy was speeding off into the night, leaving Steve in the middle of the road heaving heavy sobs from somewhere so deep he didn’t know he had it in him. 

Billy was 10 minutes down the road before his own tears blurred his vision so much he couldn’t see, he was angry. So angry. Mostly that Steve had seen right through him to know he was scared of committing to actually getting together, calling a spade a spade and dating. But he was scared, so scared. He was more scared of the damage that could do him than he was of the mind flayer, and that was saying something. To hurt now seemed so much easier than to hurt later.

He let out a scream of frustration as he headbutted the steering wheel, pulling it recklessly to turn in the road and drive back the way he had come. As he drove he slipped back on a mask of indifference, wiping his tears from his eyes to try and make sure he looked like he didn’t care. 

His heart screamed ‘you do care’, as he drove back to where he’d left Steve to see the boy sitting curled in on himself shaking. Fuck. He’d properly fucked this one up. He’d let fear get the best of him and ruined the only good thing he had in his sad excuse of a life. He pulled up beside Harrington and leaned over to roll the window down. 

“Get in Steve.” He said sharply, but Harrington didn’t move from the side of the road. 

Billy raised his voice this time, “Get in!” He ground, but it worked. Steve got himself up off the floor, shaking hands trying for the door handle twice before he made it, pulling it open and dropping into the passenger seat. 

As they set off he didn’t even look at Billy, he did his seatbelt but turned his body towards the window, his arms drawn close to his chest as he looked out to the night, a pitiful image of heartbreak. Sobs were still the only things pulling air into his lungs and the tears in his nose had him sniffing like a 3rd grader who’d shit his pants. Billy rolled his eyes at the state, but forced himself to be bold, be brave, he didn’t have to be scared about this if he didn’t want to be. He could try to make it work.

He thought about the s-word, but Billy couldn’t remember the last time he’d said that, so instead he said “Please stop crying Steve”, hoping the boy would hear the unsaid ‘I’m sorry’ tagged on the end. 

Steve wiped at his face, unknowingly smearing some blood from his brow over his nose, he took a moment to calm down before he spoke,

“You’re a fucking psychopath.”


	5. His Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to the prompts:  
> "i don’t wanna talk to you right now"  
> “let go of my hand"
> 
> Themes: Billy fights the flayer, flashback, Billy rescues Steve from the Russians, fluff end.  
> Words:1296  
> The prompts were from an angst prompt list. I've gotta admit this took on a life of it's own, I'm not sure how much angst there is, but I really enjoyed this. And I managed to squeeze the lines in!

It had been a weird fucking month. Ha, it had been a weird fucking year. Billy remembered almost nothing of being King of the Flayed, as Steve had taken to calling him. From anyone else that would be a gigantic kick in the teeth, but it was different with Steve. Steve who had been the only one to be able to drag any Billy out during that dark time. Steve who hadn’t given up on getting him back. That Steve. The Steve sleeping quietly with him now, in the warm glow of a lamp only achieved by the wee hours of the morning.

It had all been about to hit the fan, Billy’s body, controlled by something entirely outside of himself, was moments away from using him to kill the weird girl. But Billy had been snapped back to his senses, freezing with the girl dangling from where he had her held against the wall by her neck. The girl with the red hair was there too, a giant radio in her hand as she glanced her panic towards at Billy, who had frozen still. 

The crying panic of the girl in his grasp, the shouts of his sister, that was who she was, the dull roar from the main floor upstairs, none of this registered to Billy, only the sound of the kid with no teeth rattling through the box in Max’s hand, Max that was here name. “Come in, this is a code red. Steve is still down there. We could not find him. Code red, Steve is missing!”

Billy’s eyes lock with Max’s, he sees her panic, her tears. He needs to get to Steve, his Steve that’s who he is. He drops the girl to her feet, far more gently than how he imagined she’d gotten up there, picking her up in his arms to take her back to the main food court, where all of Steve’s friends were. To the man with the shirt, Chief Hopper, that was his name. He marched straight towards him, ignoring the gun pointed to him, knowing he wouldn’t shoot with the girl in his arms, El, that was her name. He passed her to the Chief, staring at him, waiting to see if he would speak. He didn’t, so Billy forced his voice box to produce something. It was harder than he imagined, all that came out was “Steve.” 

Hopper seemed to know more about what that meant to Billy than he’d ever let on, nodding his head and lowering his gun, nodding his head aside as if giving permission, sending Billy off at a sprint. He knew where he was going, but he didn’t know how, he just knew. He stopped only to rip a radio from the ex-girlfriend’s brother’s hands, Mike, that was his name. 

Getting to Steve wasn’t something still in Billy’s brain at all, he had no memory between leaving the mall and picking Steve up off the floor of a bloodied cell, furnished only with a chair Steve appeared to have fallen off hours ago. Days later he’d been filled in on just how many Russian’s he’d killed in that blank spot, with bare hands and picked up weapons, and it made him throw up, physically sick by what he’d done. Steve had told him that was because he was a human. All he remembered was picking Steve up, the warmth of memory, of love pushing his own consciousness further into his own brain. 

The rest of the day had all been painfully vivid in his memory, always playing in repeat in his mind, like it was now. The alarm clock told him it was 3:34AM, and Billy believed it, only 3:34 felt like this. Soft and warm and terrifying all together. 

“I love you, Billy. Oh thank fuck. Billy, I love you so much, jesus-” Steve had murmured as Billy had manhandled him off the floor. Billy had carried him half the way back to the elevator, back upstairs to safety, to danger, the monster. Him, me, I’m the monster, I’m upstairs and downstairs.

Steve hadn’t shut up all the way, loving adoration, somewhat drunk sounding mumblings made thinking incredibly hard for Billy, who was still fighting to have full control of his brain. He set him down against the wall, holding his chin to look him in the face. “Steve. I don’t wanna talk to you right now.” 

The corners of Steve’s mouth pulled down almost childishly, Billy recognised that from a distance in his brain as sadness. “Until it’s out of me, I can’t, okay?” A nod satisfied him and he picked Steve up again, a voice stopped him, made him straighten up to work out where it was coming from. 

The man’s voice, the one who’s hair had slipped off his head and was hanging onto his chin, Billy didn’t know him, but the radio had his voice inside now. “Come in Hargrove, you need to switch the machine off, close the gate, can you take instruction?” It was shouted, panicked, Billy could see him which was confusing, he wasn’t here, but he could see Murray upstairs, he screwed his eyes shut to try and get this version of him under control. 

Steve laughed from where Billy had slung him over his shoulder. “Is that Crazy Murray? Murraaay!” 

Billy again had a strange gap in his memory, he remembers Murray’s voice, but not what he said, he has no idea how he knew which room to go to, which keys to turn, buttons to press. But he remembers again vividly turning those keys, eyes locked to Steve’s, Steve who was the only thing keeping him in control of himself, stopping him being taken over again by that thing. 

When they turned the keys, Billy hit the deck. He dropped like a sack of spuds, as if his strings had been cut, the puppet master bored.  
Then there were tears, so many tears. He remembers that well, he remembers that with a different horror to everything else, a horror that he couldn’t stop, that Steve was barely conscious but holding his hand, head resting on his chest, whispering to him. He remembers it all, but he remembers Steve the most. 

The weight currently on his chest is the same weight, it’s Steve, holding tight, never letting go. Billy’s chest feels tight too, it always does after an action replay, the doctor calls it a ‘flashback’, but he’s not sure that’s appropriate, it’s not a flash it’s a play by play account of the game of life they engaged in that night, painfully detailed. 

It’s panic, he identified, he’s panicking. Gently, trying not to wake his Steve he tried to get up, walk it off, but a hand reaches for his own, a groan and then a small voice gain his attention. “Hey.” 

Billy smiles, in a million years that could never not make him smile, his Steve looking up at him. “Hi Pretty Boy.” 

Steve squeezed Billy’s hand, knowing something is wrong, he’s not been woken at 3 whatever AM for the fun of it, he kissed the spot of Billy’s chest where his head is resting. “Doing okay?” He whispered, curious eyes turning to meet his own. 

“Let go of my hand.” Billy replies, trying to extricate it from under whoever it was it was under.

Steve frowns but unlocks his fingers gently, uncertainty replaced with satisfaction as Billy shifts to lie more fully under him. He needs to feel him, his Steve, all over, the only person who would ever have this much of a claim on him again. The positive possession of his boyfriend scrubbing over the terrifying possession of the month prior. 

“Love you.” He murmured, wrapping arms tightly around his Indiana Boy.


	6. “You’re a god damn mistake, that’s what you are.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt:  
> “You’re a god damn mistake, that’s what you are.”  
> Themes: Date night demodogs, Billy freaks out. Angst, hurt/comfort  
> Words:1304

Steve knew Billy thought it was stupid he dragged him to the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. But he also knew Billy would never say anything about it. He needed to be here, to know he could be here without there being monsters, he could be safe in the woods. Having the other boy made it easier, he always felt safe with Billy, that was a given. Since the fight, well since Billy beat the shit out of him, things had gotten better. If Billy were a girl, they’d be dating, but Billy said on multiple times they weren’t. Even though they held hands and went on weird woodland dates and shared kisses and clothes and beds, they weren’t a thing.

  
Steve was pulled from his thoughts from a line of smoke being blown deliberately into his ear. “Okay pretty boy?” Came the gentle voice from beside him.

  
Steve frowned and dropped his head round to look at Billy’s face, getting a mouthful of smoke this time. “You’re disgusting sometimes.” He sniped, but Billy saw the affection there and leaned forward to brush his lips lazily against Steve’s.

  
“And you love it.” He grinned against Steve’s mouth before laying back, gaze directed to the canopy.

  
Steve’s fingers found Billy’s gently playing with them as they lay contently together. “Do you ever think I’m crazy?” Steve asked, watching the sky intently, feeling Billy’s eyes on him.

  
“I mean I think you’re mental for bringing me here most nights, and I know you think there’s something out here, but we’ve never seen even a coyote.” Billy said gently, knowing this was a sore spot for Harrington.

  
“I’m pretty sure coyotes aren’t a huge issue in Indiana.” Steve laughed, but squeezed Billy’s fingers, turning serious.

“But there are things out here, or there were. And I can’t live my life being scared of them. So that’s why we’re here, to make the woods nicer.”

Billy leaned towards Steve pressing a kiss to his temple. “Of all the people you could choose to make the woods nicer with, and you chose me.” Steve felt the smile against his skin, closing his eyes, not letting go of Billy’s hand.

  
It was as Steve was just thinking about the possibility that he could fall asleep right here that he heard it. The screaming of something completely unnatural, if there were coyotes in the wood it wasn’t them. He sprang to sit up, jostling Billy’s head with his elbow by mistake.

“Ah fuck, Steve, what-“

“Shh!” Steve snapped, holding a hand up to Billy’s face, ignoring the amused confusion of Hargrove face.

Billy pushed himself up, rubbing at his own sleepy eyes with his jacket sleeve before he heard it too, he felt his blood run cold, jumped as Steve was on his feet in microseconds, scrabbling to stand up himself, grabbing his car keys from the blanket Steve always brought to lie on. “Steve…” He said quietly, reaching to hook his finger in the back pocket of the boy in front of him, his gaze following Harrington’s in a sweep of the trees before them.

  
“This cannot be happening.” Steve murmured, reaching to his pocket to take Billy’s hand in his own, holding on like he would never let go again.

  
“What is happening?” Billy asked, feeling fear rise up in his chest as he felt panic radiating off his Steve. “If this is some sick prank I’m gonna kill you, I promise Steve, I’ll come round your house in the middle of the-“

“Shut up!” Steve shouted, spinning to face Billy, grabbing him but both arms. His eyes betrayed his own fear, the prospect of this being a joke dropping out of Billy’s mouth.

“There are fucking monsters in Hawkins, not big foot, or werewolves or spirts of the wood. Fucking monsters with teeth who will rip you up and eat you.” Steve ground out, shaking Billy for effect.

  
Billy could feel his blood dropping out of his face, he’d been completely happy to humour Steve and his stories, assuming they were just that. But the young man before him was now just a boy, a scared boy.

  
“Steve, someone is messing with you.” He said, unable to bring himself to believe what he was hearing, it was easier to imagine those kids on their stupid bikes winding them up. Panic did rise then, because if they knew where to find Steve to play pranks, what had they seen of how they spent their evenings in the wood. Fuck fuck fuck. They couldn’t know.

  
Another screech echoed around them, far too close for Steve’s liking. He forced his breaths to come at a reasonable speed, his shoulders betraying how fast they were actually coming. “We’re gonna run, back to the car. You go in front of me, Zig Zag, if they’re following they’re not great at corners.”

  
So they ran, they ran in a convoluted pattern across the couple hundred yards back to the car, Steve on Billy’s heels, both boys stumbling over branches and rocks, the screeching echoes completely around them now. As they approached the car, Steve swiped at the tears he didn’t know were falling, Billy pushed his hand into his pocket to grab his keys, dashing round to the driver’s seat to get it unlocked.  
“This is insane.” He said breathlessly, “Steve this is fucked up, you need-“

  
“Fucking drive!” Steve said wetly, white knuckles hanging onto the dashboard as Billy just looked at him in disbelief.

  
They set off, each having their own private panics. Something caught Steve’s attention to the right of the road, bringing his eyes snapping round to glimpse something running out of the trees. “Billy!” He shouted, but Billy saw it at the same time he did, a flowered face diving for the windscreen, Billy’s foot hit the floor and with a loud bang they hit it, it rolled off the hood. They both screamed, though neither would ever admit that if it came up in conversation.

After a mile down the road Steve let his head drop into his hands, “I shouldn’t have brought you here it was a mistake.” He grumbled into the silence only filled by the roar of the engine.

  
Something rose in Billy, and he let it erupt harshly out of his mouth. “A mistake?!” He shouted, bringing his level down a fraction as he saw Steve shrink back. “No this wasn’t a mistake; you knew what you were doing bringing me here.” He laughed hollowly.

“Billy…” Steve breathed, unable to keep the sobs from escaping, tears wetting his hands where his face was still buried.

“No Steve, you! You were a goddamn mistake! That’s what you are!” Billy swerved his steering wheel to jolt the other boy, sending Steve’s knees knocking into the central console, his terrified face looking up to Billy who met his gaze for a moment before diverting it back to the road.

  
“I’m sorry.” Steve replied weakly, wringing his hands in his lap, itching to reach out for Billy’s hand, to feel the warmth and safety he usually found there.

  
“This is fucking insane.” Billy grumbled, running a hand over his face, all fight suddenly replaced by the same pit in his stomach Steve had, those words putting some sense into him. He reached a hand out for the other boy, pulling it into his lap as he drove. Steve wiped his tears with his free hand, pushing out a shaking breath to calm himself, settling into the seat, watching Billy rather than the road.

“We won’t go there again Billy, I’m sorry. I really am.” He said, eyes searching Billy for something to say they were going to be okay, finding it when Billy’s eyes landed on his.

“I got you, buddy.” He whispered.


	7. I hate that you're involved with this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for fun!
> 
> Themes: Monster hunting boys, shit hits the fan, temporary deafness, fluff, hurt/comfort  
> Words: 1158

“I hate that you’re involved with this.”   
  
Billy rolled his eyes, however many times they found themselves helping Hopper out with some mysterious shit on the boundary of the old lab, Steve still hated Billy being there ever moment.   
  
“Babe, I’ve told you. I’m in this with you.” He grabbed Steve’s free hand and squeezed, showing that he meant it.

“Yeah well I hate that you have to be.” Steve replied indignantly, stopping in his tracks and pulling Billy to stop too. Billy loved Steve. He loved how he worried about him, loved how even though the Chief had offered to teach him how to shoot and lend him a gun for their creepy outings he insisted instead on his nailed baseball bat. He loved how when he just woke up he couldn’t open his eyes if life itself depended on it.

Billy smiled at his Steve, leaning into to brush their lips together gently, to remind Steve _why_ he was here. “You’re stuck with me I’m afraid.” He said with mock sadness, gaining a little bubble of laughter from the man before him.

“Let’s get our section checked, then we can get back home to more important things.” Steve said, nodding them along the path and letting their feet follow.

Billy wasn’t sure he hated wandering the outskirts of Hawkin’s in the middle of the night as much as he used to. The story was always the same, Hopper had been made aware of something unusual or out of the ordinary, and he got a group of people in the know he trusted to go check it out. Of the handful of times Billy had been out with Steve and the weird monster hunting people his boyfriend was acquainted with, nothing. Nothing bad ever came of it. He got to hold hands with his boyfriend outside, under the cover of darkness, with people around who Steve trusted, and Billy trusted Steve, so it was fine.

20 quiet minutes passed of wandering the woods, shining torches at trees to check they were trees and not magical portals to other worlds, investigating puddles to make sure they were nothing but water. Billy could tell Steve was itching to go, it was amazing how much of an open book he was, and Billy took pride in the fact he was so well attuned to another person.

“We could just go you know?” Billy said, slashing lines idly at a tree with a hunting knife a few feet from where Steve was shining his flashlight onto another tree.  
  
The next 30 seconds of Billy’s life ran in slow motion. He could probably retell each fraction of a second in perfect detail it happened so slowly, but so quickly all the same.

Steve spun around, throwing an alarmed arm in Billy’s direction, eyes widening. Billy smirked, then the smirk dropped as Steve shouted at him. “Stop that!”  
  
The next thing that happened is the knife in his hand burned with such ferocious cold that his grasped loosened and he dropped it in surprise.

Steve stepped away from him, Billy saw his fear. Billy turned and saw the burn on his hand from the cold and spoke aloud “What the fuck.”  
  
A force unlike any he’d experienced bounced through his chest, like being hit by a truck. An ungodly explosive sound accompanied it.

He was thrown with the explosion into the air, carried around 10 feet out from the tree he’d slashed at, landed at the same time as Steve. Steve was beside him, also lying on the floor.

A ringing through Billy’s ears showed him he’d stopped moving. Time sped up and Billy was back in the forest, Steve beside him rubbing at his elbows, but sitting up. His lips were moving as Billy looked at him.

He could see Steve talking, but his ears were consumed with ringing. Panic made itself known overwhelmingly quickly as he realised, he couldn’t hear what Steve was urgently telling him. That felt like something that aught to be verbalised.   
  
“Steve I can’t hear.” He breathed, pushing himself to sit so he could match the boys gaze but unable to as his ribs protested, Steve’s lips moved in speech again. “I can’t hear you!” He shouted, but he couldn’t hear that either. Fuck fuck fuck. This was bad. He grabbed his ribs tightly and screwed his eyes shut, trying to sit up and ignore the tears that were promising themselves on the tides of his fear. He felt Steve’s hands on his shoulder, those gentle hands grabbed his jacket and pulled him to sit up.   
  
Billy opened his eyes, locking them with Steve’s, a transmission of understanding passing between them. He’d never hear that pretty voice again, he’d never hear the sweet laugh or the protest at tickling hands, he’d never hear the moans that passed those lips, or the singing when he thought Billy wasn’t listening. He reached for Steve’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, the boys lips were moving again.  
  
Was he saying Karaoke? You’re sweet? Where’s city?   
  
“Steve, I can’t hear you.” He sobbed, feeling it stick in his throat, he didn’t need to hear that sort of upset, it was felt.  
  
Steve’s hands moved off Billy’s jacket. He pointed straight at Billy’s chest. “You”, he got that, he understood.   
  
“Okay?” That one was accompanied with a frown of concern and the universal divers sign. How did Steve know that, he’d never even been to the coast, let alone dived in the sea.

The next thought to Billy’s brain was ‘no obviously not’, he couldn’t muster the strength for sarcasm that and instead shook his head. “I wanna go home.” He said as the tears that had threatened finally made their escape.

The rest of the night happened to Billy, he didn’t participate and couldn’t really even tell you what order things happened it. He felt so numb to everything. He remembered Hopper finding them, being driven to the hospital, Steve’s hand not letting go of his, a doctor poking his ear and talking past him to Steve, trying to talk to him but realising there was 0 hearing there, back in Hopper’s car, Steve leaning over to grab a notepad and turning on the light to write and show Billy. ‘Doctor said your ears will be back on in 1/2 days’, until finally he was in the shower and in a pair of Steve’s joggers and in bed staring at the ceiling. He assumed whatever had happened in the forest was taken care of, he couldn’t imagine any of Max’s brat pack experiencing what he was now. Not that he cared about those shits anyway, but whatever.

Steve’s face appeared above his own as his weight shifted towards the middle of the bed where Steve was kneeling to fully take up Billy’s view.  
  
Steve’s lips moved, his eyes told the story, and Billy found the words easily read.

“I love you.”


	8. You were broken to begin with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: "You were broken to begin with"
> 
> Themes: gently boys, family dinners, upset Billy, hurt/comfort  
> Words: 974
> 
> I think I'm v. proud of this one tbh x

Steve had managed to drag Billy along to the Byers for the fortnightly ‘Family Dinner’, and Billy was so far out of his comfort zone he thought he was going to drown in it. Nobody had said anything about him being there, but he felt their eyes, their glances as they ate, Hopper’s death stare when he showed up at the door hand in hand with Steve. His Steve. He was here for him, because he’d been asking him to go along for weeks, said it would be good to spend time with people who _know._

He ate his dinner with his head down, swimming in his thoughts, so out of touch with what was actually going as opposed to focusing on the subtle attention everyone was paying him as Billy Hargrove at the dinner table, that he failed to recognise he was being addressed directly by Ms. Byers. A kick on his shin brought him back down to the table from where he’d been floating above, Max’s eyebrows raised at him pointedly and nodding towards Joyce, telling him all he needed to know.

“Um, sorry Ms. Byers, I must have zoned out for a moment there?” He replied, coughing to get his voice out.

Joyce smiled kindly, but all chatter had stopped to direct every ounce of attention to him, and the pressure of it was pushing all good air out of his lungs. Abruptly he pushed his chair back from the table, causing the smallest Byer to flinch from the complete other side of the table.

“I…” He started, already heading for the back door, “Just need to catch some air, not feeling great.” He said with a grimaced smile.

It was Steve’s turn to have a kick to the shin and a pointed look from Maxine across the table, “Okay, shit. I’m going.” He murmured, leaning across Mike, much to the boy’s disgust, to grab a bread roll, meeting eyes with Hopper who gave him one small nod before he was out following Billy.

From the second slam of the door Billy knew Steve was heading out after him, didn’t know whether to be annoyed or thankful about that. His assumption was confirmed when he heard a gentle “Billy?” called after him as he marched up the drive towards his car. “Where you going?”   
  
Billy spun on his heel to look at Steve, a frown furrowing his brow as he tried to work out what about a lovely meal with nice people was so difficult to deal with, he look at Steve, as if searching for the answer. “Home.” He grumbled, shoulders moving with the effort of breathing. “I can’t do this. I can’t play happy families with you.” He said weaker, voice betraying his defeat.

Steve frowned, daring a step closer to Billy, reaching out to grab his wrist lightly, as if to stop him running off at a moments notice.

“It’s just different, you’re not used to it.” Steve’s gentle voice reassured him, how fucking wonderful, Steve. Always Steve, the voice of reason, putting sensible words to irrational feelings.   
  
“I’m never going to used to it!” He snapped, making Steve’s shoulders jump in surprise. Billy didn’t know why he was lashing out at Steve, it wasn’t his fault he was a broken person, a monster even though all those people in there thought the monster had been a _literal_ one. It was still in him; he wasn’t made for happy dinners and family time with people who cared. He was made for a harsher world; he was made for no dinners and his father’s love coming at him in the fistful.

“Try.” Steve urged, leaning down to pick up Billy’s gaze, moving to hold both his hands. Billy felt the frustration pricking his eyes, he felt Steve realise that, and he felt lips gently brush his temple as he closed his eyes.   
  
“We can’t do this Steve, we need to be done.” He breathed, “It’s gonna break me.” He dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder praying to whatever god would listen to keep the tears inside his eyes as opposed to falling onto Steve’s ‘fancy shirt’.

“You were broken to begin with.” Steve murmured, causing Billy to dig his nails into Steve’s hips.   
  


“Fuck off.” Billy ground out, pressing his teeth into the shoulder where his face had been. “I’m done with this. I have to be.”   
  
“Don’t be a coward.” Steve replied, pulling Billy off him so he could look at him in the face, pushing him away probably rougher than he deserved. That word pushed some anger up through Billy’s soft panic, causing his eyes to darken and his shoulders to set as he looked at Steve, shaking his head minutely.  
  
“I’m _not._ But this” He pointed to the house, meaning the people in it, the warmth, the kindness, the _acceptance._ “This hurt. I’m going home.” He fished in his pocket for his keys, turning his attention decidedly from Steve and to his car.

He was stopped yet again by Steve grabbing his wrist, gracing him with eye contact.

“Billy.” His eyes were serious, so serious Billy was almost afraid of what he was going to say. “This shouldn’t hurt, going home should hurt.”.

Billy huffed a sigh, “I have to go home though. I always do. You all have a lovely time and go back to lovely homes with kind people. Your whole life is _lovely.”_ He laughed bitterly, grabbing Steve’s jacket, even though he’d said they were done, still hanging on anyway. “I can’t deal with the niceness when I know in an hour or two it’s going to get ruined.” He finished at a whisper.

Steve dared to wrap Billy in his arms again, drawing him so close to his chest they ran the risk of becoming one person.  
  
“Then make me your home.”  
  



	9. Thanks for stopping me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Billy was still out when everyone reconvened at the Byers after the gate was closed? 
> 
> Themes: post s2 gate close, Billy wakes from the drugs  
> CW: mentions of abuse
> 
> Words: 1457

Billy snapped awake, completely disorientated, eyes struggling to keep themselves open because the faces he saw spinning above him make him want to throw up, he groaned with the feeling of it.  
  
“Do you think he’s okay?” A voice echoed from right above him.  
  
“We gave him the right one to make him wake up right?”   
  
“We should have waited for the Chief.”   
  
“Are you kidding, we’d be in more shit if he found out.”  
  
Billy groaned again, opening his eyes and forcing them to open and focus on the unbearable racket spinning around him. “Get me some fucking water.” He grumbled, eyes pinning to Max’s.

Her eyes rolled but she moved herself out of view and Billy imagined that was because she was doing as he’d asked. The rest of the brats just stared at him, not saying a word. Billy let his own eyes roll at them before closing his eyes and letting his head thump back down onto the floor of whatever shithole he was in.

He opened his eyes when Steve’s voice floated to touch his consciousness. “Is he awake?” Billy opened his eyes to look at him, god he looked like shit. He was covered in blood, but something else as well. His appraising gaze must have been enough to satisfy Steve’s curiosity as to his wellbeing because he disappeared from view as Max came back in.   
  
“Sit up then.” She muttered, holding the glass at arm’s length.

Billy raised his eyebrows at the tone, a memory of her nearly taking his dick off with a baseball bat making itself known at the front of his brain. He groaned, pulling his hands back to lever himself up off the floor, pushing himself backwards to sit propped against the wall.   
  
“Here.” Max said, pushing the glass into his hand, Billy used his other to hold it too, keeping the shaking from sloshing drink over his lap.

“I’m fine, fuck off.” He muttered, glancing at the audience he still had. The rest of the brats scarpered quickly, but Max was still watching him. He met her gaze, poking his tongue out over his bottom lip, surprised by the metallic pang of blood.

“Can I help?” He ground out, drinking his fill of water, half the glass.

“What’s your problem?” She asked, as if she’d never met him before, Billy wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much.

“Me? My problem? You. You’re my problem.” He replied, his voice grating back to what he was used to it being, the knives grating the inside of his throat turning outwards once more.

Max rolled her eyes and kicked his knee with a force Billy was surprised she had in her before she disappeared from his narrow field of vision and he closed his eyes completely. What the fuck.

  
When Billy next opened his eyes it was because he was being yanked to his feet by Hawkin’s Chief of Police and held by the collar of his shirt against the wall. His senses came back to him quicker than they had when the kids had been poking him, he scrambled to find his feet, touching down with his toes.   
  
“Sir?” He asked, voice weak with the shock of it all.  
  
“One good reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now.” Was the response he got, punctuated by a shove of his collar up the wall, causing him to swallow a gulping breath, fear prickling in his eyes to blur his vison with water.

“Sir?” He asked again, his voice betraying his fear, making him sound vulnerable.

Another voice made itself known in Billy’s ears, sounding like it was coming from miles away, but it was a child’s voice, yet the force of it was breathtaking.   
  
“Hop.” The voice demanded, a small dark haired, dark eyed girl who’s head was poking up from the sofa, frown meeting Billy’s.   
  
Billy looked back to Hopper’s face, who had closed his eyes and was frowning so deeply Billy thought it must hurt. He didn’t loosen his grip, but he didn’t tighten it either, just holding him there. After what felt like a lifetime of silence he spoke.   
  
“I swear, if you do anything like this again, I’ll come round your house in the middle of the night and kill you in your sleep.”   
  
Billy held his gaze, nodding the weird haze of his brain up and down. “Yes Sir.” He said quietly.   
  
“Now go wait outside with Harrington, I’ll be out in 10, don’t touch him.” He said, stepping back and letting go of Billy’s shirt, watching him do as he was told and slip sideways around him towards the front door.   
  
When Billy stepped outside he froze, Harrington had his head pressed into his own lap, and was heaving silent sobs that shook his whole body. He didn’t know how to approach him, even if he should. He’d done this to him, he’d fucked him up so badly he passed out. He’d fucked him up so bad his sister had drugged him to get him to stop. He’d fucked up so badly Harrington was out here alone weeping into the night.

He swallowed and sat a good 6 feet away on the edge of the porch, glancing sideways as Harrington realised he wasn’t alone. He needed to say something, needed to get the air thinner between them, because it was suffocating. “Crying ‘cause of me, Harrington?” The words came, okay not what he’d planned.   
  
Harrington wiped his face off, looking up but not to Billy. “You wish.” He mumbled, causing something somewhere in Billy’s heart to lighten.  
  
“Then what?”   
  
Steve shrugged, “There are worse things in my life than _you_ smashing my face in.” He replied, finally meeting Billy’s eyes, the sincerity there of those words so blinding, Billy had to look away. He nodded gently. He could do it, he could say it now. He pressed his face into his hands with a groan, trying to push some confidence into his mouth.  
  
“I’m sorry though. I… Yeah I’m sorry.” He grumbled, not daring to look round to the other boy. Steve nodded to show he’d heard, but didn’t offer any words in response. The door slamming behind them startled Steve so badly he was up to his feet and spinning around in a second, terrified eyes landing on the Chief. Billy frowned, what a strange reaction.

“Sorry kid.” Hopper said in Steve’s direction, sad eyes looking over Harrington. Why did this night only get weirder. Billy’s mind went to the worst place, went to his own father, went to Steve’s reaction, what if Steve had it worse than him? Was that why he’d jumped so badly? Why Hopper was apologising so gently for slamming the door. The bottom fell out of him and he felt more regret for beating Steve than anything he’d ever felt in his life. He needed to make this all right.  
  
He stood up as Hopper passed, watching him with a desperate gaze. “Sir, where is Maxine?” He asked respectfully, a fear dancing on his words, obviously reaching Hopper’s ears because he stopped and looked over Billy.   
  
“Inside, I’ve spoken to your father…” Billy’s mouth dropped, the same tears from earlier threatening at his eyes. “I explained some things to him, he’s picking her up tomorrow.” Billy’s heart squashed itself so tightly in his chest at that, the Chief of Police had explained everything. He would survive the Chief of Police, he would survive Steve, and the kids and their weird drugging, but as soon as he was dropped off at home, he was dead.

“Can…” Fuck the tears were loose, they were falling down his face and he didn’t have the control to even care about them, fear clouding in his ears and ringing their alarm bells. “Can I see her one last time?” He asked quietly, barely a whisper.

Hopper frowned at the wording but nodded. He held a hand up to indicate Billy wait there and went back into the house. He came out a moment later with his stern-faced sister ahead of him. Hopper waited on the porch with Harrington, but Max marched right up to him, glaring up defiantly. The look softened when she saw the tears that were still leaking from his eyes. “Billy?”   
  
He reached out but stopped shy of touching, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed, if she would let him. If Hopper who was watching from the house would let him. He didn’t have to make the decision though, because she stepped into his hands, wrapping her small arms around his waist. “Max I’m sorry.” He whispered, pressing his face into the top her head, feeling her nod her answer.

“Thanks for stopping me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also posted on my tumblr.   
> bronskibeat.tumblr.com
> 
> <3


	10. Thanks for Stopping me, part 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued straight on from chapter 9 of this compilation.
> 
> Same TW: for mentions of abuse/neglect. 
> 
> Words: 1967

Billy sat silently in the back seat, behind Steve who was propping himself up against the window of the Chief’s crusier. His heart hadn’t stopped beating double time since Max had hugged him, he hated that kid, but she was his sister and he loved her too. The realisation of that was startling and had likely contributed some towards his racing heart, she was so much like him and he wanted her to be so different, she deserved better than to model herself on his image.  
  
The Chief’s voice pulled him from his reverie, “Harrington.” He singsonged, loud enough to try and pull him from sleep.  
  
“I’m not fucking sleeping Hop, just leave me alone.” He replied, waving a hand but not moving his head from it’s position against the glass. Billy was startled at the boldness in his words, he wouldn’t dream of speak to the Chief like that, he was too intimidated by the man. But some part of Billy found it in him to be amused, his lips twitching themselves to a quick smirk, Steve was brave, he’d give him that.

“Well if I get to that emergency room and Joanna or whatever her stupid name is gives me shit again for the way I’ve looked after you, that’s gonna be all on you kid.” Hopper replied snappily, Billy’s smirk dropped off quickly, straightening up in his seat slightly as uneasiness as to what Hopper’s next move might be. His racing mind was already 6 steps ahead when he heard Harrington huff a laugh. What the fuck? Did he have a death wish?

“Sorry Hop, as the adult, she’ll say it’s your fault.” He muttered through his humour. This was all too much for Billy’s brain to take, the evening had been one wild ride and he wanted off.  
  
“Um, Sir.” He interrupted “If you drop me at the corner of Elm and West at the next block, I can walk home from there.” He said as respectfully as he could muster, the uncertainty in his own voice infuriating.

Hopper glanced back his way, then his eyes were back to the road as he shook his head. “No you’re coming with us to the hospital.”  
  
“I don’t-“  
  
“You were drugged by the goonies, and you can wait while Steve is seen. This is your doing, you can be inconvenienced by being here as much as the rest of us.”  
  
Okay, not ideal. He really didn’t want to have to hang around Steve while the injuries he’d inflicted on him were patched up, but it would seem he didn’t have much of a choice.  
  
“Yes Sir, Sorry Sir.” He replied quietly, ducking his head to look at his feet as if by sheer will power and glaring at his feet he would be able to run away from this.  
  
Steve huffed a noise, Billy’s ears were tuned in and listening. “Why’d you say Sir so much, you don’t even Sir teachers at school.” He observed, lolling his head round off the window but thinking better of it and placing it back gingerly, screwing his eyes shut.  
  
Billy didn’t have an answer, he twisted his thumbnail into a graze on his knuckle from the fight, grimacing at the pain of it, but needed something to stop his brain smashing itself around inside his skull.

Hopper glanced back again, frowning, Billy could tell that without looking He kept his gaze on his shoes as the Chief looked at him for a long moment before looking back to the road. “Because he respects me, unlike you, you little shit.” Hopper said, directed at Steve.  
  
Steve hummed an amused sound, Billy lifted his head up suddenly, wanting to see Steve’s face. He looked to the wing mirror to see Steve reflected there, to try and understand his complexion. Among the mess he’d left there he was a lopsided smile, his eyes still shut. “You still love me though right, Hop?” He asked. Alarmed bells were sounding in Billy’s head so loudly he missed Hopper’s response.  
  
-  
  
Billy had had his hands cleaned and wrapped up by a nurse he didn’t even look at. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the person who was helping him feel better, he was sure that seeing the person taking care of him would only deepen the guilt pooled in his chest about how much help Steve would need.

Hopper was sitting beside him in the waiting room, arms folded and legs stretched out into the room, crossed at the ankles, head knocked back as far as it would go. Billy didn’t know what had gone on that evening for real, but judging by the state of the Chief it was something serious. And you have made it worse, someone near the back of his head whispered to him. Billy swallowed, wanting to say something. He pulled his own legs under the chair, wringing his hands nervously in his lap.  
  
“Out with it.” Hopper grumbled, not looking round at Billy, his eyes still directed to the ceiling but closed anyway.

“I’m sorry Sir. I was just…” He pushed out a frustrated breath, forcing himself to get the words out. “Are you going to arrest me?”

Hopper sat himself up, looking round to Billy properly. Billy felt he was being read like a book, it was uncomfortable and he dropped his gaze away as Hopper just looked him over. “Call me Hopper will you? The rest of the brats do.”  
  
“I’m not-“  
  
“Yeah you are kid, you’re a minor in this town who makes my life more difficult than it needs to be. So you’re part of the brat pack.”  
  
Billy nodded, he guessed that was fair. He still needed his question answered though, the idea of going home was unappealing, but so was a night in the cells on his own. He went back to cracking each of his knuckles in turn, not daring to ask again.  
  
“Max mentioned your dad.” Hopper finally said. Billy was so shocked at it that the initial burst of anger carried him to his feet to look round at Hopper. Hopper who just raised an eyebrow in challenge and had Billy dropping back into his seat again.  
  
“What did she say? What did you tell him?” He asked in a hurry, forcing himself to look round at the man beside him, however uncomfortable that was.

“The truth.” Hopper said simply. All of Billy’s breath left his body in one gasp, he doubled over to press his face into his hands on his lap. No no no. He was a dead man, he was living on borrowed time, Hopper had only brought him here to torment him. If Max had told him the truth, he must know what the truth would do to him.  
  
Steve walked into the room just then, which was typical Harrington timing, always always at the worse possible moment, when he was in the worst possible mood. “I have a concussion!” He announced with mock joyfulness, hitting Hop with two finger guns.  
  
Hopper stood up and pointed at the chair he’d vacated. Steve dropped himself into it, nudging Billy’s arm either intentionally or not, he couldn’t tell.  
  
“Steve, I was just letting Mr Hargrove here know what happened tonight at Ms. Byers house.” Billy’s heart had already stopped, the bottom of his stomach falling out his arse. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Billy looked up to Steve, hoping he couldn’t read the panic there, before he returned his attention to Hopper standing before them. Another glance sideways showed Steve was smirking. Of course Harrington would be enjoying this. But if Billy's suspicions from earlier were true, he’d imagined some more empathy? Maybe smashing someone’s head in exempt them from feeling bad for you.

“I told Mr Hargrove Senior about how you’d turned up to collect your sister just in time to confront a violent burglar. About how you defended your sister and her friends in the face of danger.”  
  
Billy felt like he’d been launched into space, all the air sucked out of his lungs, all the tears sucked out of his eyes. He pulled some air into his lungs before he passed out, embarrassed when he caught as a sob in his throat.  
  
“Why?” He mumbled through his tears.

-  
  
Billy found himself alone with Harrington for the second time that night, leaning against a wall in the parking lot to wait for Hopper to finish the paperwork inside. After his disgustingly embarrassing display in the waiting room, he wasn’t wholly inclined to speak to the boy for fear of ridicule, but he had to ask. He had to know.

“Why is the Chief being so nice to me, I don’t deserve it.” He muttered, gaze out across the parking lot, not daring to look at Harrington.

“Does your dad hit you?” Steve asked flatly, no beating about the bush there.

Billy’s eyes flew round to Steve, frowning his most dangerous look towards him, working out his motives. But he didn’t find any.

“Does your dad hit _you_? Is that why you’re so friendly with the Chief?” He shot back.  
  
Steve shook his head, “Apparently what my dad does is neglect.” Steve said with some venom, the same venom Billy felt towards his own dad. He didn’t fully understand what those words meant, but he understood the tone, and felt obliged to share in order to equal the playing field again.  
  
“My dad beats me, yeah.” He said, voice barely above a whispered, a secret he’d not told anyone all of his life, and saying it out loud now was terrifying, terrifying but weirdly liberating. He was so far away in the strange mix of dread and euphoria that he didn’t realise Hopper had joined them.  
  
“If I take you home tonight, with our version of events. Are you going to be safe?” Hopper asked, bringing Billy down with a thump. But Billy nodded, he was sure Neil would be happy with that, and if not, people knew now. He could tell someone. He was free from the secretiveness of it all.

“Did Max tell you?” He asked, leaning up against the wall to look up at Hopper, somehow knowing that this man helped Steve settled some of the anxiety he’d felt around him earlier. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly been civil.

Hopper nodded his confirmation once, Steve made himself busy with adjusting the hem of his shirt, feeling like he was intruding.

All of the tears he’d spent that evening appeared not to be enough and Billy ducked his chin to his chest. Sobs shook his shoulders as he cried, he hadn’t cried like this since he was a child, it felt like all the hurt of the last few years was all pouring out in one go. Hopper stepped forward and dropped a heavy hand onto his shoulder, Billy moved his head round to lean against the arm, unable to stop the tears. Max had done this for him. Max had helped him more than he could repay her. His little unassuming sister, the girls who had drugged him to stop him murdering her babysitter. His little sister who saw and heard more than he ever knew and waited for the right time to use that information. He mentally noted to sit her down for a grown up discussion as soon as he was able to, he owed her so much, maybe his life.  
  
“We’ll get you through this kid, I promise.” Hopper’s gruff voice called to him, bringing him back to the here and now. He leaned out of the man’s grasp, wiping quickly at his eyes before looking to Steve, then back to Hopper. When he spoke his voice was desperate, desperate with hope, with despair, wet from his tears,  
  
“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, there was part 2!  
> I hope it's a more satisfying ending than the first part!  
> point any mistakes out to me, I almost certainly haven't spend enough time on this!


	11. Nightmares and Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written because I can' sleep
> 
> Themes: Camping trip, tent sharing, nightmares, ptsd ruminations, hurt/comfort, sooooft
> 
> words:1087

“You gonna sleep? Or do I have to lie here listening to you all night?” Billy grumbled from his side of the tent Hopper had lent them, though his side also seemed to be Steve’s side because the thing was so damn small. So small that even back to back Billy’s ass was pressed against Steve’s arm where he lay on his back frowning at the roof.

“Listening to what? I’m not breathing too loud for you am I?” He sniped back, pulling his arm free so he didn’t have to even be touching Billy after that statement.

“I can hear every thought going round your head, mate. It’s deafening.” Billy replied, pulling his sleeping back tighter around his own neck.  
  
Steve rolled to look at the back of Billy’s head, pushing himself back onto the canvas to put as much distance between them as he could. “Yeah well try being _in_ my head. It’s fucking infuriating.” He ground out.

* * *

  
Billy huffed a sigh, finally rolling over towards Steve, he could barely make him out in the dark of the tent, but he was painfully aware of his presence and eyes staring right back into equal darkness.   
  
“Look, I get it yeah.”  
  
Steve frowned, Billy almost heard the crack of it.  
  
“Get what?” Steve forced, wanting to hear what Billy’s assessment of him was.  
  
“If you’re worried about nightmares or whatever, it’s no biggie. I won’t be a prick about it.” Billy replied easily, the saintly arrogance frustrating Steve beyond belief.  
  
Steve pushed out a sigh, the breath moved the hair on Billy’s forehead, but he held his tongue, waiting for Harrington to say something, if anything.

Every fibre of Steve’s being was, in that moment, regretting agreeing to this stupid camping trip Hopper had insisted on, but El had been excited, and Hop had wanted some strong hands around _just in case._ And after the summer they’d all had last year, Steve couldn’t say no. He’d booked the week off from Family Video and asked Robin to pray for him when he found out Billy had been enlisted too.

When Steve didn’t say anything Billy settled down, closing his eyes and getting comfortable to sleep again. His sleepy voice came as a whisper when he next spoke. “I’m just, if you want to talk. I get it.”   
  
Steve growled low in his throat, pulling a hand out of his sleeping back to wipe over his face. “I’m not sure the guy who got possessed by the monster keeping me awake at night is the one to start therapy with, but thanks.”   
  
Billy physically flinched, “Ow!” He exclaimed, it sent fear coursing through Steve’s veins. He reached out a hand and gently grabbed at Billy’s chest.  
  
“What? What is it?” He asked quickly, his worry clearly transmitted to Billy’s ears in the dark.  
  
“That low blow.” Billy replied back sharpish, the annoyance tinged with hurt reaching Steve with the same urgency of his own panic that was still condensing on the underside of the canvas.  
  
Steve pressed his hand against Billy’s chest once and then his hand was gone, back inside his own sleeping bag. “Sorry.” He whispered.

Billy nodded, Steve heard the rustle of the action. It was quiet for a long while before Steve rolled his back to face Billy, settling down.

“Go to sleep, Steve.” Billy whispered. The name bounced around the tent, if anything that name from those lips causing Steve to be able to do anything other than go to sleep. His usual nightly action replay of his torture followed by a double bill of Demodogs now replaced with _Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. Go to sleep, Steve._

.

Billy wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep before he was woken abruptly by an arm smacking him unceremoniously across the head. He ducked it under his hands while he tried to work out what was going on, who was hitting him in the middle of the goddamn night. Panic tugged at his chest with the surprise of it, but the tangle of his sleeping bag and the whine of a Harrington brought him into the tent, memories of the conversation before they’d slept hitting him in the memories.   
  
“Steve.” He hissed, looking towards where Steve was tossing and turning in his bag, fighting it as if that was the object of his night terror.

“Steve.” He tried a bit louder, conscious that the Chief’s tent was close to their, the kids thankfully demanding their distance so they could pretend they were alone.   
  
Steve swung upright, and then the lack of balance toppled him over to land his head on Billy’s stomach. Billy pulled his own hands out of his sleeping bag and sat up quickly. “It’s me, it’s Billy, you’re okay, it’s okay.” He rushed out, grabbing Steve to lay him down on his back again, fumbling hands finding the zipper to free Steve from his panic, Steve’s hands were out in a shot, grabbing hold of Billy’s with a whispered “fuck fuck fuck”, punctuated by tight squeezes on his still held hands.  
  
They sat like that for a moment, Steve on his back grasping onto Billy’s hands. Billy sat leaned over the other boy, legs stretched out before himself. It was a long moment of silence that stretched before them before Steve choked a sob, Billy realising from the sound Steve was crying silently, holding himself from making any noise.

“I shouldn’t have fucking come.” He grumbled, letting go of Billy’s hands to wipe over his face, scrubbing at the tears and muffling the words.

Billy laid himself down gently, scooting as close to Steve as he dared. “It’s cool Steve, you’re alright yeah?” He was so close Steve could feel the words as much as hear them, the air of them touching his ear.

Steve rolled from his back into Billy, moving himself down to be able to press his face to the other’s chest. “Mmhmm.” He replied wetly, more tears shaking his shoulders. Billy let the surprise sit with him for a moment before he wrapped an arm over Steve, pulling him close, letting him get comfortable.

“I get them too.” He admitted, voice softer than Steve had ever heard him speak before. “You’re not weak for it. It’s just how it is.”   
  
Steve huffed out a sigh into Billy’s chest, his hand between them holding onto a handful of sleeping bag. “How do you ever get better?” He murmured.

Billy shrugged, the action moving them both, gentle humour bringing reassurance to his words.

“I’ll tell you when I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bronskiibeat on tumblr. Where this is also posted

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at bronskiibeat.tumblr.com


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